


I Let It Fall

by amethystfox, ayerlind



Series: I Could Live a Little More [6]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Casual Sex, Feelings Realization, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Jan is a Troll, Just not about that, M/M, POV: Paulo, Paulo is actually super shy, Paulo the surprise mother hen, Poor Winksy, Secret Crush, Sunshine Squad, Tottenham Hotspur F.C., Tottenham Hotspur FC - Freeform, Unrequited Crush, implied at least - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22930297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystfox/pseuds/amethystfox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayerlind/pseuds/ayerlind
Summary: October 2017Paulo, Jan, Harry, and Sonny are grouped together for some promotional videos.
Relationships: Paulo Gazzaniga/Jan Vertonghen
Series: I Could Live a Little More [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621807
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	1. Who Am I?

October 2017  
London

Paulo had to reread the email a few times to be sure that he understood what he was being asked to do.

He'd known about the promotional requirements in his contract, of course. He had done some of this sort of thing for Southampton during his time there. But that had pretty much just been interviews, photoshoots, the occasional challenge on the pitch, that sort of thing.

And it looked like at least one of the promotions he had been scheduled to shoot was going to be a photoshoot, and one of them was some kind of prize giveaway for the fans. But the third…

Paulo had been picked for some of this year's Christmas promotions, which he supposed wasn't surprising given that he was one of the newest signings, but not yet a regular in the starting XI or on the bench. This would be a chance for him to make an impression on the fans.

His teammates that were also scheduled to shoot these with him were interesting, too. Son Heung-Min was one of the most popular players on the whole squad, a superstar in Korea and well-liked throughout the Premier League. His inclusion would probably help boost the reach these videos would get.

Harry Winks was another name that made sense there. He was a home-grown darling, a local boy made good who had been sharply on the rise in the last couple of years. He was another one that would help draw the fans in.

Jan Vertonghen, though… Paulo wasn't as familiar with him. He knew Jan was one of the top starting defenders, of course, but Paulo hadn't had a lot of interaction with the Belgian centre-back outside of training, and Paulo usually spent most of his training time working with the other goalkeepers. Paulo couldn't help but wonder why he had been picked for these promos. He'd been at Spurs for five years now, surely he didn't need the profile boost like Paulo did.

Paulo scrolled back up to the descriptions of the promotions again. A giveaway, a photoshoot with some of the women's team, and… a game called Who Am I? 

Paulo had never even heard of that before. He had to turn to Google for help. Even when he thought he understood the rules, he still found himself at a loss to understand why exactly he would be doing something so silly as part of a team promo video.

Finally he shrugged, sent back a quick confirmation, and closed his laptop. Silly or not, it shouldn't be difficult, at least.

  
  


***

  
  


Despite the videos being intended for Christmas release, they had to shoot them quite a bit in advance to allow time for editing and such. It was a remarkably warm day in October when Paulo arrived at the training centre to begin shooting, still feeling a little uncertain about the whole thing. 

Wardrobe dressed him in some ordinary training gear, a blue top and joggers. Paulo was feeling fairly optimistic when he saw them. Blue was always a good colour on him, he knew; it brought out his eyes. Not quite as well as shades of blue and green combined, like teal or aqua, but well enough.

He was just finishing getting his hair slicked back when another staff member came into the room, carrying something else over his arm. "Found one," he said, sounding a bit out of breath. "There weren't many in stock and it took me a while to find one in the right size."

He smiled proudly and held up… a navy blue Christmas jumper. With an enormous cartoon reindeer on the front.

"I am wearing _that?"_ Paulo said dubiously.

"Yep. We need to play up the Christmas angle, after all. We might even put Santa hats on a couple of you lot."

Paulo sighed.

"It's not that bad, really," came a chipper voice. Harry Winks had wandered in while Paulo was pulling the thing on, already dressed in his own Christmas jumper, which bore an overly cheerful cartoon penguin. 

Of course Winks didn't think it was that bad. He looked like an excited little boy anyway; that was part of his appeal. In that jumper, he was positively cherubic.

Paulo sighed and ruffled Winks's hair. "Easy for you to say, my friend." To Paulo's annoyance the sleeves of the jumper didn't quite reach all the way down his wrists. It was not an uncommon thing for him to have to deal with when getting fitted for clothes. He almost always had to wear custom tailored-- off the rack could rarely accommodate his gangly, 196 cm frame.

"Cheer up, mate. It's just a bit of fun."

"Paulo! Paulo! You have the jumper?" Another boyishly excited voice came floating in from the corridor. Paulo couldn't help but smile as Sonny rounded the corner. Sonny was wearing the same penguin jumper as Winks, and when he saw Paulo's reindeer, he positively cackled.

"Aw, Paulo, you are a reindeer! It's 'cause you so _tall."_

Paulo had to giggle. Son was easily the most instantly likeable player on the team. He had a sweet, bubbly nature that was somewhat at odds with his feisty playing style, and he had the gift of making everyone feel like they were truly, individually special to him. He tended to gravitate towards new signings, making it his personal mission to help them feel welcome.

Sonny bounded straight into Paulo now, hugging him round the middle and giggling. Paulo hugged him back, already feeling better about this whole shoot.

"Well, at least I'm not the only one with the reindeer," a new voice said dryly. Paulo glanced up from Sonny to see Jan Vertonghen lounging in the doorway, one foot tucked up behind him and his arms folded over his chest.

"Ooh, Super Jan! Let's see!" Sonny went to tug Jan's arms down to show his jumper. Jan grumbled a little but yielded, revealing Jan's reindeer jumper, identical to Paulo's. Except Jan's appeared to fit him correctly, Paulo noted with a touch of irritation. In fact, he looked entirely too good in the absurd thing.

Paulo blinked, aware that he had started staring a bit. The colour of the jumper brought out Jan’s eyes, making them look far more intensely blue than normal. Actually, Paulo had never even noticed that Jan had blue eyes before.

“Well, let’s go see what happens, eh?” Jan said, nodding at the door. They filed out, elbowing each other a bit, still laughing at the ridiculous jumpers, Sonny draping himself around Jan's shoulders.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


They played Who Am I? first. Paulo found that he was more nervous about this than he had expected. It was basically a guessing game, and he still felt shy more often than not. He didn't offer his opinion very often, except with the other Spanish-speakers.

The staff put yellow memo notes on their foreheads, each with the name of a famous Tottenham fan or player written on it. Paulo read the others' answers and felt a bit better. Two of them were current Spurs players, so at least they were people Paulo knew. Jan had Dele Alli's name on his, while Harry Winks, amusingly, had Harry Winks. Sonny's, on the other hand, said "Adele." Paulo knew that was the name of an English singer, but couldn't remember listening to any of her songs.

"All right. Everyone understand the rules, yeah?" the production assistant said. "Questions first, two each, then impressions. Last to guess theirs does a forfeit."

They all nodded.

"Right then, Jan, why don't you start us off? You know, 'Hi, this is Tottenham Hotspur's _Who Am I?'"_

Jan nodded. Paulo was staring down at his hands, trying to quell his nerves. _If you can save penalties in front of a crowd of thousands, you can do this._

"Lights…? Set? And… _action."_

"Hi, this is Spurs' _Who Am I?"_ Jan said dutifully. Paulo glanced up at him just as he started speaking and was surprised to see that the bright lights of the set made his beard look like it was on fire. Paulo had had no idea that Jan's hair had so much red in it-- it usually looked brown, maybe auburn. But the wiry stubble on his face was suddenly lit up such a brilliant orange that Paulo completely forgot what they were supposed to be doing.

"Lovely. Now then lads, we'll guide you through this, still rolling, and just edit out our voices later. So just try to pretend like you're just talking to each other, not to us."

Paulo exchanged a glance with the others and nodded.

"Right then. Let's get a couple of minutes of chat here at the start. Have a look at each other's answers and if you have any comments, go right ahead."

Another glance rippled between the four of them.

Winks squinted up at his own note as if he was trying to read it. Paulo snorted at the way his eyes were crossing.

"Can you see yours, then?" Winks said with a laugh.

Paulo squinted at his. "No chance," he said-- or at least that's what he tried to say. He hadn't realised it, but his throat had gone completely dry. What came out was a squeaky rasp and a cough.

"Paulo, you 'kay?" Sonny asked, concerned.

Jan smirked and tossed Paulo a bottle of water. "Got to keep you hydrated," he said. His voice was serious, but there was just enough of a glint in his eye that Paulo knew he was teasing.

Paulo took a quick drink, trying to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

"I was just going to say, I for sure can't read mine."

"No," Jan agreed. "Not even with the way my eyes are going like _this."_ He zig-zagged his fingers in and out to the side. Paulo noticed that his eyes were, in fact, closed. _He has a lot of freckles. Huh. I never really noticed before._

"I don't think that's how eyes work, mate." Winks laughed.

"Sonny, who are you?" Jan asked, opening his eyes and peering at Son.

Sonny shrugged. "I can't see," he said plaintively.

Jan read Sonny's note quickly and smirked again. "You're never going to guess yours," he said teasingly.

"All right," the director called. "Let's start the questions now. Everyone gets two, we'll go down the line once, then back to the start and down again. Yes or no questions only." He nodded to Jan.

"Am I a… guy?" Jan asked. 

"Yeah," Winks said, with Sonny and Paulo murmuring agreement.

Then it was Sonny's turn. He wasn't supposed to repeat the last question, Paulo knew. "Am I a singer?"

_Smart_ , Paulo thought. He had seen the list of known celebrity Tottenham supporters and there were a fair number of singers on there.

"Yeah," Jan said, chuckling. They all laughed. Sonny shook his head, covering his mouth with one hand to minimise how much of his shrill cackle would be caught by the microphones.

"No, it's good." Jan said. "All right, Winksy, your turn."

" Am I…" Winks took a long pause. "Male or female?"

"Ah, ah, ah," said Jan reprovingly. "You have to-- we have to answer it yes or no. That's just a question."

"English, ah?" Sonny said with a chuckle.

Paulo happened to be looking right at Winks when Jan was speaking and he could have sworn he saw embarrassment, even hurt, in the boy's eyes.

"Am I a man?" he asked, cheeks flushed slightly. They answered affirmatively, and then it was Paulo's turn.

He realised suddenly that he should have been planning ahead what question to ask. Now he had no idea and the focus was on him.

"Am I… ah…" _Can't ask if I'm a man, and I'm probably not a singer or a footballer._ "Am I… blond?"

"Mmm, no. Not blond," Jan said, and Paulo suddenly sympathised strongly with Winks's embarrassment. He had basically wasted a question.

"Do I play for Spurs?" Jan asked to start the second round.

"Yeah," Winks said, draping an arm across the back of Paulo's chair with slightly exaggerated casualness. Paulo smiled at him, noticing that he too, had freckles. The difference was noticeable between his freckles and Jan's, though; Jan had pale skin and light reddish freckles, while Winks had darker skin, with an almost golden glow, and his freckles were brown. They definitely added to his charm, Paulo thought, in that endlessly boyish way.

"Am I Korean?" Sonny asked brightly.

"Nope," Winks said, flashing a grin when Sonny looked shocked.

"Oooh. No?" Paulo had to join in the laughter at how shocked Sonny was.

"Nope. Pretty sure about that."

Winks's turn again. "Am I a football player?"

"Yeah." 

_Crap, my turn again._ "I am… a boy?" Basic, maybe, but he had to start somewhere.

He was looking at Jan this time, and he definitely saw his mouth twist in an almost-grin. "Yes," he drawled.

For some reason Paulo found himself blushing again. Something about the way Jan said that made him want to squirm. He hastily drained about half of the water in the bottle he was still holding and began to fidget with the bottle, passing it from hand to hand.

"All right, lads, that's the end of round one," called the director. "Still rolling. Time for impressions! Jan, you start again, you get to ask one of your mates to do an impression of the person on your note. No limits, you can ask for as many as you need to get it, just rotate turns."

Jan nodded. "Paulo," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Do your impression of this guy." He pointed at the yellow memo note on his forehead, the one that said "Dele Alli" on it.

Paulo was stumped for a moment. He didn't know Dele very well yet either. Finally he grinned. 

"Sup, bro?" He tried to move his hands the way Dele did when he'd said this around Paulo before. He saw the blank look on Jan's face and couldn't help but laugh. “That’s what it is, yes? Or no?”

"Yeah," Harry agreed, laughing merrily.

"Ah… GK?" Jan guessed.

"Nope." 

Jan looked mystified.

"Okay," Sonny said. "My turn. Who can do impression of me?"

Paulo shook his head. He still couldn't remember what Adele's music sounded like at all.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, mate."

"Fine, I'll go." Jan took a deep breath, and to Paulo's horror, began to sing, badly off-key. He didn't recognize the song, but he could tell that Jan was definitely not on pitch.

_"I set fire… to the rain…._ Lalala… this is how it goes, no?" he demanded, seeing Sonny's look of sheer confusion.

Paulo and Winks looked at each other and collapsed with laughter.

"Ah, come on, Sonny. That was a good song." Jan stroked his chin, looking vaguely offended.

Sonny turned to Winks, his face a question mark. Harry swallowed his laughter and nodded seriously, which set Paulo giggling again.

"My friend, you have many talents," Paulo wheezed around his laughter. "I am sad to tell you, singing is not one of them."

Jan scowled at him, but Paulo thought he could see a laugh lurking behind those eyes. He was starting to pick up more of the subtle cues that went into Jan's style of communication. He was nowhere near as open and artless as either Sonny or Winks, but Paulo thought he was starting to decipher him, at least a bit.

Next it was time for someone to try to do an impression of Winks himself. Paulo, Sonny, and Jan exchanged a round of glances, thinking.

"Maybe the turning?" Jan suggested to Sonny, twirling his fingers. That didn't really make sense to Paulo, but apparently it did to Sonny. He laughed and hopped up from his seat, beckoning for a football to be tossed to him.

He set it on the floor, nudged it forward, then immediately did a tricky little turn with his feet, nudging the ball the other way instead. It was a miniature but clearly recognizable version of Winks's footwork when he was pivoting in midfield. Paulo was impressed.

Jan let out a surprisingly immature giggle at Sonny's antics. Sonny grinned at him. "Is it right?" he demanded. "Is it right?"

"Yeah," Jan said, giving Sonny a high five, still chortling. Paulo had to laugh too. Jan's laughter was remarkably catching.

Winks, however, looked stumped. "You lost me now. Who's that? I was almost gonna say Mousa..."

Sonny pouted. "Aw, no. I thought it was good. Can I try again?"

Paulo shrugged, glancing at Jan and Harry. The director called, "Sure, go ahead."

Sonny thought for a moment, then beckoned to Jan. "Stand up."

Jan got to his feet, eyes curious. Paulo shifted the water bottle back and forth between his hands, just to have something to do with his fingers. Something about the way Jan got to his feet, half-smile in place, was giving him an odd feeling in his belly.

Sonny's grin was pure mischief. He mimed scoring a goal, then running to do the celebration. He took a couple of steps, then jumped into Jan’s arms, one leg hiking up to almost wrap around Jan’s hips. The three of them laughed, and Paulo joined in, though he didn't know what Sonny was imitating. It was probably something Winks had done in a previous season. Paulo felt a twinge of jealousy at seeing the things the other three shared, things he had no way to really share with them.

He was hoping he'd settle in here. He never really had at Southampton. And even though being at Tottenham meant being virtually assured of staying second choice or lower for some time yet, he felt it was a good fit. If he were to be the second choice goalkeeper, well, there were far worse keepers to be second to than Hugo Lloris, who was team captain, after all. Hugo had been a large part of the draw for Paulo to come to North London, in fact. He was easily one of the best currently active goalkeepers in the world, and the chance to train with him, and learn from him, was one Paulo had been eager to seize.

And so far, really, settling in at Tottenham had been much easier than it ever had at Southampton. His English was worlds better than it had been when he had first arrived there, for one thing. For another, he had been lucky enough to have transferred to Spurs with a small handful of practically ready-made friends. 

Davinson Sánchez was a few years younger than Paulo, and being from Colombia, didn't have a lot of cultural overlap with him, but they did share a language, at least, and signing on the same day had created a special bond between them.

Juan Foyth, on the other hand, had signed with Spurs a week later than Paulo and Davinson. He was from Argentina, like Paulo, was even younger than Davinson, and naturally shy, but Paulo had taken an immediate liking to him. He had a feeling that he had assumed a "big brother" role in Juan's eyes already.

Between those two, Fernando Llorente-- a Spanish striker-- and Érik Lamela, better known as Coco, who was Paulo's age and Argentinian as well, but had been at Spurs for several years already, Paulo had been pleasantly surprised at how quickly he was beginning to feel at home here.

But still, watching Jan, Sonny, and Winks laughing over a shared memory made something inside of Paulo ache. He wanted that, that feeling of truly belonging.

"Perfect, ah?" Sonny gasped, plopping back down on his seat, chest heaving with laughter. Jan agreed, his face flushed from giggling. Paulo couldn't help but smile, watching him. When Jan laughed like this, all traces of his "cool guy" subterfuge evaporated. He looked like a gleeful little boy who had been caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

"Is that me?" Winks guessed, his freckled face creasing in an incredulous grin. 

They all cheered, laughing and applauding that one of them had finally gotten it.

"Why is that me?" Winks demanded, peeling the memo note off his forehead.

"This is how you hug Poch, after you score," Sonny explained, wiping his eyes. 

Winks blushed. "I didn't do _exactly_ that," he protested weakly. Paulo glanced at him, struck by sudden curiosity. Winks was definitely flustered by _something_ here. Was it the way Sonny had jumped on Jan, or how he pretended to wrap his legs around Jan's waist? Had Winks actually done that when hugging Poch? 

Or… 

Maybe… maybe it wasn't anything about Winks jumping on Poch that was at fault here. Maybe it was the suggestion of Winks jumping on _Jan_ like that.

Paulo followed the line of Winks's gaze, back over to… Jan. Winks was staring straight at him, with something like longing in his eyes, his face flushed with embarrassment. Jan and Sonny were too busy laughing to notice, and Paulo thought it looked like Harry was out of the camera's field of view at the moment, leaning back behind Paulo. He was suddenly glad that no one but himself had seen this moment. What was in Harry's eyes at the moment felt deeply private.

_He looks at Jan like he is in love._

All at once Paulo felt a wave of fierce protectiveness rush over him. He hadn't yet had a chance to grow close to Winks, but in this instant Paulo felt as he would if Harry were his own brother. 

_If he is in love with Jan, he may be in for a broken heart._ Paulo was not perhaps the best judge, but so far as he could tell, Jan was not likely to return Harry's affections. For one thing, Jan was a married man.

Then Harry blinked and looked down at the sticky note in his hand. "That's poor," he mumbled.

"Okay, okay," Jan said, settling down again. "Do an impression of this guy." He pointed straight at Paulo's forehead.

"You do this one," Paulo said, turning to Harry.

"Hmm," Winks said doubtfully. "Dunno if I can. Have you watched any of his films?" he asked, his eyes on Jan again.

Jan laughed. "So, now he knows he's an actor."

Paulo felt his face split into a wide, sympathetic grin at how sweetly flustered Harry was at that. "Ah, thank you, my friend," he said, patting Winks on the back.

Winks was blushing. "I thought you knew that."

Paulo shook his head, still stumped. He had no idea what actors might be Spurs fans.

Back to Jan again. Sonny's face brightened. "Stand up," he said to Harry.

"Impression, impression," Jan egged them on.

Sonny and Harry began trying to do an imitation of Sonny's handshake with Dele. The problem was that Winks didn't know it, and Paulo wasn't sure if Jan would recognize it in any case. Paulo certainly didn't.

He didn't miss the way Harry almost immediately turned to look at Jan over his shoulder, though. _He seems to always be watching him._

"Is that Harry Kane?" Jan guessed. Harry sighed, shaking his head, and sat down again. Paulo couldn't resist ruffling his hair again with a twinge of sympathy.

Sonny, though, was determined. "Um…" Paulo grinned up at him, interested to see how else he would imitate Dele. He was starting to relax now, enjoying the game more, despite the unexpected discovery of Winks's possible crush on Jan.

Sonny grinned and held up two fingers in a V, but pointing down, and a finger from the other hand across them, to form a crude A. He beamed and skipped towards Jan.

"Dele!"

They all clapped and cheered again.

"Right, Sonny, do you need another impression?" 

Paulo winced; he wasn't sure he could handle Jan trying to sing again.

"Here, I do my own impression!" Sonny sat on the bench again and put on a very serious expression.

_"Hello,"_ he sang, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. _"It's me…_ Adele, ah?"

"Ah, yeah, that was a song," Jan said sheepishly. "Well done, Sonny."

"So, what, I lost? Impossible, right?" Paulo peeled his own memo note off. It said "Mark Wahlberg." Paulo knew the name, but could not have possibly recalled his face or what films he had been in.

"Why you don't put, uh, Harry Potter?" he asked, trying to think of English or American celebrities that he might have been able to guess. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jan watching him, those blue eyes intent on Paulo's face. That odd, squirmy feeling in his stomach returned.

Harry grinned and said, "He's not a Spurs fan," which sent them all off into gales of laughter.

"Right, well done lads!" the director called. "Time for the forfeit. Jan, Son, Harry, you get to choose another famous Spurs fan for Paulo to guess." The production assistant handed Jan a memo notepad and a pen.

_Uh oh,_ Paulo thought, seeing the way Jan's eyes were sparkling with mischief. The three of them immediately huddled together, whispering.

_Maybe they'll feel sorry for me and pick something easy._ Paulo lowered his head but kept his eyes on them, so that he was looking up at Jan almost directly through his eyelashes, his long fingers toying with the sticky note he was holding. It was on the flirty side for him, but he couldn’t resist. He thought he saw Jan swallow as his eyes flickered up at Paulo. 

Jan whispered something to the others, and then he was writing something down while Winks and Sonny laughed and returned to their seats. Jan showed the note to the camera with a smirk, then rose and approached Paulo.

_How had I not realised before how tall he is?_ Paulo was used to being the tallest person in the room, sometimes by a wide margin. Jan, though, came closer than almost anyone else Paulo had met. It had to be a difference of less than ten centimetres. He felt his pulse quicken as Jan crossed the tiny set towards him.

_Smack._ Jan slapped the sticky note onto Paulo's forehead with exaggerated force, and they all laughed again. Jan rubbed his fingers across the top of the note a few times to make sure it stuck. Paulo held his breath for a second to avoid getting distracted by Jan's fingers on him.

"All right, go ahead, Paulo. Start with questions again. No limits this time."

"Okay. Am I a boy?"

"Yep," the others confirmed. Jan was leaning forward in his chair now, toying with the note that had Dele's name on it, eyes on Paulo. Harry had an arm slung around Sonny's shoulders and he seemed to be making an effort not to look at Jan.

Paulo took a breath. "Ah… Am I English?"

They shook their heads.

"Spanish?" That got a round of nods.

"Am I a player?"

They hummed negatively, and Paulo assumed that meant no. He was about to ask another question when Harry piped up, "Used to be."

Jan sighed in exasperation. "Is that yes or no?" 

Harry blushed. “I forgot.”

“Am I an ex-player?” Paulo grinned.

“Yeah.” They all laughed ruefully.

Paulo thought hard. “How about an impression?”

“I can do something,” Sonny said suddenly. He whispered in Winks’s ear for a moment, who nodded and laughed.

“Ah, _qué paso! Amigo!”_ Sonny exclaimed in a passable Spanish accent, throwing his hands up dramatically.

Paulo didn’t even have to think. He burst out laughing. “Toni!” He wouldn't have expected Sonny to be able to imitate the goalkeepers' coach so well, but it was unmistakable.

They all clapped and cheered, laughing.

“And cut!” the director called. “Cheers, guys, I think that’s a wrap. Jan still has the Monopoly game to shoot still with this set, but the chap for that won't be here for a bit, so we’ll set up for the giveaway challenge on a different section of the pitch. Check back with us here in fifteen, yeah?”

The four of them all got up and obediently wandered away. Paulo couldn't seem to stop watching Winks constantly glancing over at Jan as they left the indoor pitch and strolled around the training centre.

“That was fun,” Winks said brightly as they headed down a corridor. “What d’you lads want to do til we’re needed back?”

Paulo shrugged noncommittally, but Sonny wound his arms around Jan's waist and Harry's shoulders and led them away, chatting and laughing. Paulo stood watching them for a moment, feeling that twinge of jealousy again. Maybe settling in wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped.

Then Jan turned and looked over his shoulder at Paulo. "You coming, bro?" he called. Those eyes were teasing him, but he didn't look away until Paulo swallowed and nodded. Paulo came up alongside them, and Jan draped his free arm across Paulo's shoulders, and together the four of them wandered away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can watch Who Am I? [here](https://youtu.be/oUAHWcTZVcI).


	2. The Giveaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Jan, Sonny, and Paulo shoot a prize giveaway video, and something else gets given away as well.

They wandered back by about fifteen minutes later, but the crew were still setting up in the far corner, so they wandered the empty areas of the indoor pitch, idly kicking a ball back and forth. Paulo found himself watching Winksy, who was staring at Jan again. He was so young, all freckle-faced boyishness and beaming smiles. Paulo tried to remember if he had ever been that fresh, even when he was the same age. He thought not.

Really, Winksy reminded him more of Juan Foyth, he reflected. Juanito was even younger than Harry was, but had the same sort of sweet innocence. The comparison made him feel that surge of protectiveness towards Harry again; both Harry and Juanito made him want to put his arm around their shoulders and give them advice. 

But he had never seen Juan staring at anyone with longing in his eyes the way Winks was watching Jan now. Of course, Juan had a girlfriend back home, so it made sense that he wouldn’t be susceptible to this kind of crush.

Winksy, though, was clearly head over heels. Paulo couldn’t blame him, he supposed, eyeing Jan thoughtfully. He was an attractive man, of course, with the blue eyes, the auburn hair, that pale skin with all those freckles. He was tall and graceful, and watching him play was always enjoyable, the way he ran, the way he threw himself into challenges, the way his muscles moved…

Paulo shifted uncomfortably. He had been staring again. The blue joggers they were all wearing tended to cling to them in ways that could have been embarrassing if anyone had really been paying attention. Normally Paulo wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but now he found himself very aware of just how nice Jan’s ass looked in them.

He tore his eyes away with some difficulty, seeing the Spurs TV crew waving them over. There was a goal set up with six large boxes arranged inside, three hanging from the crossbar, three resting on the pitch. They were wrapped in blue Spurs Christmas paper and each one had a piece of paper taped to the front with a number from 1-6 printed on it. A table was set up off to the side with some Spurs merchandise arranged on top.

“All right, lads,” the production assistant said cheerfully as they made their way over. “This one should be pretty simple. I’ve written down the instructions, though, thought it’d be a nice intro for one of you to read them out loud, yeah? We’re going to start the cameras rolling, somebody reads the instructions, and then you guys can just do your thing. Try not to pay too much attention to us.”

“Okay,” Sonny said cheerfully, putting an arm on Paulo’s shoulder and leaning against him. Winks was standing next to Jan, facing them.

"Alright chaps. Lights? Set? And… action!"

The production assistant handed the instructions to Paulo, who had a brief moment of panic at the thought of trying to read them aloud. Between his still imperfect English and his natural shyness, he didn't trust himself to try, so he tried to hand them off to Sonny. Sonny blinked, though, and didn't take it, so Paulo handed the paper to Jan instead, who accepted it, looking slightly bemused, but shrugged and read aloud.

"'Harry, Jan, Son, and Paulo,'" he began, and an odd shiver went through Paulo when Jan said his name. He wasn't sure, but he thought it might have been almost the first time he'd heard Jan say it, his lilting accent making it sound much more interesting than usual.

"'You each have two balls placed in front of you," Jan read. Harry put a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle, and Jan glared briefly at him. Paulo didn't understand why until Harry started blushing again.  _ Ohhh. Balls. _ Paulo had to hide a smile of his own.

"Take your aim towards the goal and hit the hanging gifts. For each present you hit, a prize on the table will be given away to fans in a random draw. Take your positions.'" 

Sonny applauded when he was done, and Harry and Paulo joined in. "Well done, Jan," Sonny said, his face serious.

Jan made a self-deprecating face at this, wiggling his hand back and forth in a  _ so-so _ gesture. Paulo again had to hide his smile.

"All right, how about you go first, Jan?" the director called.

Jan nodded, looking over the prizes on the table. He reached out a hand to touch the Spurs home shirt, fingering the hem thoughtfully, then he nodded and stepped away.

"I'm going for the Spurs shirt," he called out. "Number one."

"Wow," Sonny said. "You want to be number one because you are Super Jan!"

Jan laughed and set up his first ball, studying the shot. There were two practice mannequins set up in front of the goal to provide a bit of a challenge for them, and to top it off, both mannequins were wearing Santa hats in Spurs blue.

Finally Jan exhaled, took a couple of running steps, and kicked the ball. To Paulo's surprise it didn't even come close to the box marked  _ 1, _ which was in the upper left corner of the goal. Jan's shot skimmed along the grass, narrowly missing the number  _ 4 _ box.

"That's not number one," Harry called out, laughing.

"Ohh, one is at the top!" Jan exclaimed, his face reddening. "What is that?"

Sonny laughed, and Paulo found himself grinning at Jan, who was remarkably cute in his embarrassment. "That's number four!"

Winks smirked at him. "That's one try gone," he said teasingly.

Jan blushed harder and rejoined them off to the side. Sonny stepped up to take his turn next.

"Big pressure, ah?" he said, smiling sympathetically at Jan. He chipped a shot at the centre of the goal, hitting the box marked  _ 5 _ .

"Yes!" Jan shouted, clapping enthusiastically and high-fiving Sonny when he danced back over to them. "You hit it!"

Sonny went to the table and found the prize marked  _ 5, _ a wooden nutcracker dressed in Spurs colours, and held it up for the cameras, beaming.

Paulo was up next. He stepped up to the line, then stopped short, blinking in surprise-- he had forgotten to grab a ball.

Jan laughed and tossed one to him with a wink. Paulo caught it over his head, and tried not to blush as he dropped it to the artificial grass.

"Hey," he called. "If I hit the number three, I take the present for me, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course, yeah, yeah," Jan said, his face serious, but his sparkling eyes gave him away.

Paulo grinned and eyed the shot. He knew he had both power and aim at his disposal, he just needed to focus. He took a deep breath and tried to pretend that Jan wasn't watching him as he took the shot.

He knew as soon as it left his foot that he had gotten it. The ball arched cleanly to hit the box marked  _ 3  _ in the upper right corner of the goal. Paulo raised his arms in triumph as the other three all began yelling in celebration. Jan and Sonny both rushed over to hug him, making Paulo flush happily, at least until he caught sight of Harry's face. He didn't look upset, exactly-- he was smiling and clapping much as the others were doing-- but his expression was just a little too tight, a little too set, to fool Paulo. Guilt twisted something inside him and he tried to keep his face straight as Jan wrapped an arm around his waist from one side and Sonny from the other, both laughing. Finally Harry came to join the group hug, his hand carefully high up on Jan's back. 

Paulo was amused that he was able to wrap his arms around all three of them with little effort. He managed to reach all the way around Sonny's shoulders to curl his hand around the back of Winks's head affectionately. Harry stiffened slightly, his smile faltering just a bit. Paulo pretended not to notice, but he pulled his hand back, making a fist and pumping it triumphantly, determined not to let his own wide grin slip. He avoided looking at either Winks or Jan for another moment, pretending to find something fascinating to look at on the wall until Winks had stepped away to take his turn.

"What are you going for, Wingzy?" Jan asked.

Winks squinted at the remaining boxes. "I'll go for number six,  _ The Lane. _ If I don't get this…" He shook his head. "It's just a back pass."

Winks set up carefully, but his angle wasn't quite right, and the ball hit the back of the net and rolled away without touching the box marked  _ 6. _

Sonny giggled, but Paulo forced himself to keep a straight face. The last thing he wanted was to make Harry think he was laughing at him.

"Yeah, but passing's not your game, mate," Jan said calmly, making them all snort at the irony of that statement, given Winks's considerable skill in exactly that.

"Pitch was bad, eh?" Sonny teased Harry, tamping down the artificial turf with his foot. Harry blushed but laughed good-naturedly at himself.

Then it was Jan's turn again. He eyed the remaining boxes thoughtfully. "Okay, I'm going for number four," he announced, stepping up and placing his second ball.

"Which prize is that?" Harry asked.

Paulo glanced at the prize table. "Jumper," he offered.

"Jumper, what I have? Jumper what I have!" Sonny grinned and plucked at the penguin jumper he was wearing. "You want this?" Paulo tugged at the hem of his own reindeer jumper, wishing that it fit him better.

Jan, who had no such problem, rolled his eyes at them and connected strongly with his left foot, sending the ball in a neat curve around the mannequins and directly into the box with the  _ 4. _

They all clapped, Sonny cheering loudly, as Jan's momentum carried him through a full turn. He shrugged, cool as you please, and moved away from the goal. 

"Nice one, Jan," Harry said, his eyes locked onto Jan. Paulo glanced at Jan and immediately wished he hadn't; the Belgian was still facing away from them and the sight of his ass in those blue joggers--

_ Stop it, _ he told himself, hastily looking away.  _ Bad enough he's already got poor Winks staring at him all the time, he doesn't need you doing it too. _

Jan came to rejoin them, the bottom hem of his jumper slightly hiked up by his kick, and Paulo felt himself blushing when he realized that he could actually see the outline of… well, something he had no business looking at. He hurried forward to take his second turn, forcing himself not to look at Jan.

"Which one you aim for, Paulo?" Sonny called after him. "Number one? Maybe two?"

Paulo eyed the choices and shook his head, stepping back from the ball. "Nah. Six, no?" One and two were both hanging from the cross bar, number six was sitting on the pitch.

It was a solid shot, if not perfectly on target; the ball struck the wall behind the goal and knocked over the  _ 6  _ box on the rebound. Good enough.

"Yes!" Jan shouted, clapping.

"That counts?" Harry asked, hands on his hips. The skepticism in his voice made Paulo frown. They glanced over at the director, who shrugged and nodded.

"Sure, that works."

Harry smiled and clapped for Paulo along with Jan and Sonny, but a certain tightness remained in his jawline.

It was his turn now, though. Paulo went to stand to the side with the others, next to Jan but careful to keep a good distance between them.

Harry bent to grab his ball from the pitch, and as he did, Paulo happened to notice Jan's head turn, following Harry's motion.  _ Is he… is he looking at Winks's ass? _

He blinked, but when he looked again, Harry had straightened up again and Jan was staring down at the pitch in front of him. Paulo shook his head quickly.  _ Just my imagination. Jan is straight, surely. _

Harry moved into position and looked between the two remaining boxes. "I'll go… middle."

"Ah, Winksy!" Sonny cheered enthusiastically.

This time Winks's aim was precise. The ball hit the box marked  _ 2 _ just about dead center, setting it rocking on the cross bar.

_ "Pavo!"  _ Paulo heard himself shout, clapping. He wasn't entirely sure why Harry was being so cold with him today, but Paulo would prefer to be friends with him.

Jan and Sonny clapped too. "Ah, Winksy, love that!" Sonny called out. Harry beamed at him and came to stand with them. At first it looked like he was going to move to stand next to Jan, but when Jan moved away to help Sonny retrieve his second ball, Harry ended up standing next to Paulo.

"Good shot," Paulo said quietly.

"Yeah, cheers." Harry's voice was neutral. Paulo winced internally and shifted his weight to his other foot. He wrapped his left arm around his waist, resting his right hand on his hip and idly caressing his lower ribs with his thumb. Jan came back over to them soon enough, and he smiled at both of them. Paulo tilted his head to the side and studied Jan. He was coming to realize that he was paying more attention to the Belgian than he had before, but he wasn't quite sure why.

He had been in relationships with men before, of course-- he had actually met Patricia at a social event for people who were interested in a certain lifestyle, one with a far broader acceptance of a wide variety of sexual orientations and preferences than could strictly be called conventional. It was one that was not really compatible with the accepted public image of a professional footballer, but luckily people in those circles typically practised greater discretion than most.

It wasn't even the fact that he was finding himself attracted to Jan that particularly surprised him. Jan was a handsome man, of course, and had the same high level of physical fitness as all professional footballers generally did. No, what was unsettling Paulo was something... less readily definable. It was something about Jan's personality that had caught Paulo's attention, but he couldn't say exactly what.

Paulo blinked, realising that Jan had said something to him, but Paulo hadn't heard him at all, too lost in his reverie to have paid any attention.

"Ah, that's how you know he means business," Harry said with a grin. Paulo looked past Jan to where Sonny was setting up to shoot for the number  _ 1  _ box, in the upper left corner of the goal. He took his time setting up the shot, his sunny face serious as he looked from the ball to the target. He calmly chipped the ball, but at this angle Paulo couldn't be sure if it was on target or not. 

"Yes!" Jan said quickly, his eyes intently following the arc of the ball. Paulo was momentarily distracted watching the line of Jan's jaw, the way his beard enhanced the definition of his cheekbones--

_ Shit, stop it, _ Paulo told himself. He had completely missed seeing Sonny's ball hit, but it must have done, because the box marked  _ 1 _ was rocking gently on the crossbar, and Sonny was doing a silly little triumphant pose, punching the air dramatically.

"I hit!" he screeched, and Paulo had to join in giggling at him with the others. Anything to avoid looking at Jan. Bad enough he kept thinking about him, kept seeing him in his mind, even when he wasn't looking at him. The way he looked in these blue joggers--

_ Shit, stop it, stop it, _ he told himself again, willing his body not to react. The last thing he needed was to let himself get aroused on camera, in front of Jan and everyone else.

Jan was saying something else to the cameras now, picking up the nutcracker, tugging on his jumper again, but Paulo didn't hear any of it. He was too busy trying to figure out at what point he had stopped simply noticing Jan and started wanting him.

_ This could definitely be a problem, _ he thought, all too aware of Harry nearby, still tense, still watching Jan, his feelings written across every inch of his face. It amazed him that Jan hadn't noticed it himself-- or at least it did until Jan looked over at Harry and smiled, and Harry's face transformed, becoming a mask that hid every trace of what Paulo had seen there only moments ago.

Paulo shook his head slowly. There was definitely more to Winks than he had ever guessed.

Then Jan turned his smile on Paulo, and he realised with a jolt that there was more to Jan than he had ever seen, too. He hadn't expected to find himself drawn to Jan the way poor Winks was, but it was becoming rapidly apparent just how much he really was.

How had this happened? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slowdown in updates-- lockdown hasn't been kind to me lately, in lots of ways, and writer's block is unfortunately one of them. Rest assured, though, I'm still slowly hammering away at this one and all my other WIPs. I'm nowhere near done with this series yet. 💜
> 
> You can watch the Christmas prize giveaway [here](https://youtu.be/pfFNNcYqgsk).


	3. I Cannot Sing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watched the first three episodes of the documentary last night, and suddenly I'm no longer mad that they didn't drop the whole thing on us at once, I don't think my heart could take it.
> 
> This series is based as much in reality as possible, but anything written up to this point obviously may not be compliant with the documentary, and we likely won't go back to retcon anything significant based on details from it. We will use it as a source going forward, though 😁

They finished up with the giveaway soon after that, and Paulo was glad for the chance to take a moment where he didn't have to interact with Jan, to try to get himself under control. The crew was setting up for the photoshoot with the Spurs Ladies now, and some of the first team were scheduled to shoot with them as well. There was also still a "teammates" style quiz scheduled for tomorrow, though none of Paulo's group were tagged for that.

They milled around for a little while, chatting idly amongst themselves, watching the Ladies players wrapping some more gifts in Spurs Christmas paper for their fan giveaway. Paulo was glad they hadn't had to do that; he was no good at wrapping gifts himself, always preferring to have Patricia do it, or else rely on gift bags and boxes. From the looks of things some of the Ladies players were having trouble with it, too.

He was watching with some amusement, lost in his own thoughts, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He blinked and glanced around to find Sonny smiling up at him. Paulo dropped an arm around his shoulders. "What's up, my friend?"

"I just want to see if you are okay," Sonny said softly. "You so quiet today. Everything's good?"

"Ah, I am fine," Paulo said, ruffling Sonny's hair, watching as a production assistant came to claim Winksy, plopping a blue Santa hat on his head and leading him off to pose for the cameras.

"You can say," Sonny said, looping his arms around Paulo's waist and hugging him tight. "If you need something, right? Or just to talk. I keep secrets, if you need."

A sudden lump rose in Paulo's throat. He hadn't realised quite how perceptive Sonny was, or how deep his concern for his teammates went.

"Thanks," he murmured, his eyes straying to where Jan was kicking a football idly, toeing it up, catching it on his chest, a knee, back to his foot again. He was just messing around, really, but still, his skill was remarkable. "There's nothing, I promise. Just still sometimes I remember I am new here, I still get to know people."

Sonny hugged him again. "I know. Sometime I feel this too, specially now Kevin has gone." Paulo remembered hearing that Kevin Wimmer had been an especially close friend of Sonny's. Paulo had only met the Austrian defender a couple of times in the five days between his own arrival and Wimmer's departure, but he knew how hard it could be when the inconstant nature of professional football separated friends. 

He tightened his own arm around Sonny's shoulders. "I am glad you are here, at the club. I like having you as my friend."

Sonny beamed up at him. "I like having you as my friend too. With you around, I never have to be the one to reach the high shelf."

Paulo let out a snort of laughter. He was used to it, the teasing about his height, and usually it didn't bother him much, especially when it was as affectionate as Sonny's. He didn't have much to complain about, really, apart from the occasional difficulty finding clothes that fit. Being nearly two metres tall was a definite advantage in his career as a goalkeeper, and it came in handy far more often than it was a liability. 

Sonny reached up and took hold of Paulo's hand where it was dangling from his shoulder and laced his fingers together with Paulo's, squeezing affectionately. They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the various activity around the pitch. Paulo found that his eyes persisted in going back to Jan, again and again.

He heaved a deep sigh as the truth of his situation settled in: he had, without intending to at all, developed a crush on a teammate, a married man, someone he had no basis to think would ever be interested in Paulo. This had happened on occasion in the past, but almost never with someone so completely unavailable, someone he would see so frequently. He had to find a way to deal with this, to be able to be around Jan without letting it be too awkward.

Off to the side of them, a short woman with close-cropped hair and not one, not two, but three clipboards balanced in her arms, effectively startled him out of his tumultuous thoughts when she called out, “Cut!” She was already striding toward the semicircle of women on the ground even as she announced, “That’s a wrap. You two come over here, the rest of you are done for the day. Cheers.” 

As most of them wandered toward the exit, calling back and forth, “Laters, love you girls!” to one another, assistants swarmed to pick up discarded wrapping paper and tape, and the production coordinator herded two of the women, a blonde and a tiny brunette, over toward the far side of the pitch. Various players had been rotating in and out of the photoshoots for most of the time that they’d been shooting, from the academy all the way up through the first team, and the setup of white backdrops, tall lights, and several cameras were waiting for them, along with a good half dozen photographers and their assistants. 

They dismissed Winks to make way for the girls, and Paulo watched him go toward the door, feeling a sympathetic pang at how slowly he went, and how he kept casting surreptitious glances toward Jan, as if he was just waiting for the chance to at least wave goodbye. 

In a moment of impulsivity, Paulo raised an arm up to wave. “See you later,” he called. 

“Bye, Winksy!” Sonny added, beaming over at him. 

Harry glanced at him and reflexively waved back, and between them, Jan looked up. He turned first to Paulo and Sonny, and then the other way, following their gazes. When he saw that Harry was leaving, he waved to him as well, but Paulo was the only one who saw Harry duck to hide the pleased little grin that brightened his face as he went through the doors.

_ Poor guy, _ Paulo thought, for probably the dozenth time.

The two Ladies players got started with their pictures, and that same clipboard-wielding woman turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning. “Expressions?” she called. The Youtuber, who had been justifiably distracted with watching Jan doing his tricks as well, grinned brightly as he strolled over, already gushing about his excitement to be participating. The coordinator flipped a page over the top of one of her clipboards, made a note, then hustled him toward the set to stand with the ladies. 

Paulo’s eyes lingered on Jan, admiring how focused he was, the grace in every line of his body as he controlled the ball with deceptively light touches. One of them was a little too light and he had to go after it, bending over to pick it up - and Paulo cleared his throat and looked down at Sonny, suddenly quite in need of a distraction. “Are you part of this one?” he asked, gesturing at the photoshoot.

With an uncertain noise, Sonny shrugged under the arm he still had draped over him. “Don’t know, actually,” he said, laughing a little. “I go where they tell me.”

“Paulo, time to get you ready, you’re next!” He was being waved over by a clipboard, and with another little laugh, Sonny detached from his side. Paulo found himself disappointed; he was an exceptionally tactile person, and it was nice to have made a friend already that he could be that affectionate with. 

“Have fun, Paulo!” sang Sonny, grinning, and Paulo shot him a wry smile, messing up Sonny’s hair fondly before they parted.

“Paulo!”

Paulo jumped at the second call from the bespectacled, no-nonsense woman, and he hurried forward, feeling his face heating up with every step; it wasn’t as if he had dawdled for more than a few seconds. It was particularly embarrassing in front of Jan, who had turned to watch him go, smirking that same damnable little smirk that he’d had on his face during Paulo’s ‘Who Am I’ forfeit.

He managed to walk past Jan without bursting into flames, though, and let himself be hurried onto the set, dutifully donning the blue Santa hat he was given, standing for pictures with the two Ladies players he was paired up with. They were both much shorter than he was, of course; he'd never met a woman who could match him for height, but he always felt rather ridiculous standing next to an adult who was more than a foot shorter than he was.

The brunette-- Shannon, maybe?-- in particular looked laughably tiny next to him, with the top of her head barely reaching his armpit. He ignored it as best he could, though, pretending that he didn't stick out next to her like an absurd tree.

He clearly wasn't the only one who was uncomfortably aware of the height difference between them, though. After a couple of shots, she glanced up at him with a slight smile. "I don't think you're tall enough," she quipped, and a round of chuckles rose from the crew and the other players who were hanging around.

Paulo laughed a little. It was a joke he had heard plenty of times before, enough to wear out any humour he could find in it, but at least it broke the tension a little bit. He tried not to let it get to him, determined to get through the rest of today like a true professional.

A shout of laughter caught his attention after a few more flashes from the camera, and Shannon bent nearly double giggling as one of the production staff brought over a small folding stepstool.

"Here we go," the man called, setting it down next to Paulo and gesturing for Shannon to step on it. Even on the stool, she was still a good few inches shorter than he was, but apparently it closed the gap enough to balance out the pictures. He smiled as the cameras kept going off, trying not to let his embarrassment show on his face.

After a few more shots, the production assistant rearranged them slightly, putting Shannon and her stepstool on Paulo's right, the blonde on his other side. He stood patiently, his camera smile in place, wishing that this would be over soon.

"Okay, this way, that's it, to this side if you please," came the voice of the woman with all the clipboards. "Here's your hat."

"Are you serious?" Paulo heard a voice ask dryly, but the clipboard woman didn't answer, already bustling away. Paulo turned his head to see who the newcomer might be--

Paulo tried very hard to ignore the way his heart rate sped up when he saw Jan, stationed on the far side of the blonde, eyeing the floppy blue Santa hat in his hand sceptically. He focused instead on what a relief it was to have him there to balance out Paulo. He wouldn't look nearly so ridiculous looming over the Ladies with Jan there too. Paulo was still the tallest, of course, but at least he wouldn't stick out quite so much.

Jan heaved a put-upon sigh and dutifully plopped the hat on his head-- distinctly crooked, Paulo noticed, biting his lip. The production assistant that had brought the stepstool for Shannon scowled and reached up to fuss with it, straightening it and pulling the brim down to cover Jan's hair. He left the bobble hanging down behind Jan's head, though, Paulo noticed.

"All right, scoot in, now," the director called, and the Ladies moved closer to Paulo, who put his arms around them as he had for the first round of photos. Except now Jan was there too. Paulo jumped nervously when his hand bumped into Jan's side, but he quickly settled it on Jan's back, between his shoulder blades, hoping that it wasn't trembling too much.

"Jan, fix your hat," the director said with a slight frown. Jan reached up to tug at the brim, clearly uncertain what was wrong. On impulse Paulo lifted his hand from Jan's back and went to catch hold of the bobble and transfer it to the side, like the rest of them had it. When he did, though, Jan looked up at him through his eyelashes and brought his own hand up to bat Paulo's out of the way.

"I've got it," he murmured with just a hint of a pout, and dropped his eyes. Paulo pulled away, blushing a little, and replaced his hand on Jan's back. If he didn't know better, he might have almost characterised the look Jan had just given him as… flirty.

He was determined to keep his eyes away from Jan while the rest of the pictures were being shot, but after a few minutes one of the photographers scowled and called the lighting person over to make some changes, so they got a quick break while the lights were being reset. The Ladies were pleasant enough to chat to, and they provided Paulo with a reason not to have to meet Jan's eyes.

"So what other bits have you lads shot today?" the blonde one asked, her eyes fixed on Paulo's face. "You had a giveaway too, didn't you?"

"Yep," Jan said. "Taking free kicks at gift boxes. Not too bad."

"Wish we got to do fun ones like that," Shannon said with a sigh. "They hardly ever tap us for games and the like."

"Eh, sometimes they're fun, sometimes can be a bit embarrassing," Jan said with a grin. Paulo let out a sudden laugh, making all three of them look at him.

"Sorry," he said, still grinning. "I just remember in our game earlier, the guessing game. We have to do impression, and--"

Jan blushed. "No need to bore them with details," he said loudly, scowling, but Paulo could see the amusement underneath it.

"Go on, then," the blonde said, grinning. "What kind of impressions?"

Jan groaned in despair. "We were playing Who Am I, and Sonny had Adele on his head," he explained. "So when we got to the impressions round, I had to try to do an impression of Adele."

"Blimey," the blonde said, giggling. "Suddenly I'm glad I've not had to do anything like that."

"Ah, you would've been all right, Hannah," Shannon said. "Not me though, can't carry a tune in a bleeding bucket."

Paulo couldn't contain it anymore. He burst out laughing, gasping for breath and pointing in Jan's direction. "You should have hear this one," he got out finally.

Shannon grinned up at him. "Bad, was it?"

"I just hope Adele don't watch the video when it come out, or she might not be a Spurs fan anymore," he answered, smirking over at Jan, who was looking distinctly grumpy.

Paulo smiled back at him, trying and failing to convince his heart rate to settle back down. Even when he was feigning anger, Jan was distractingly beautiful.

"How bout you, then?" the blonde-- Hannah, apparently-- asked him then, with a coy little smile.

"Nah, I cannot sing," Paulo answered with half a blush, feeling Jan's eyes on him.

"Aw, why not?" Shannon asked, her eyes fixed on him, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Because I'm… shy," Paulo admitted, his blush deepening.

"Shy? You?" Jan said, one eyebrow raised. "How is that possible?"

Paulo just shrugged, dropping his eyes. He couldn't look directly at Jan anymore; it was quickly becoming too much of a distraction even to be around him. He needed something, anything, to take his mind off of Jan, or he was going to end up embarrassing himself.

"All right, back to your places, nearly done," the woman with the clipboards called to them just then, bustling over to them and shooing them back in the direction of the set.

Paulo carefully kept his eyes away from Jan for the remainder of the shoot, instead paying strict attention to the photographer and other production staff. At one point, though, he noticed that Hannah was pressing just a bit closer to him than she really needed to be, her hand on his waist just a bit lower than it really ought to be. 

When they were done at last, Hannah hung back a bit, just long enough to raise an eyebrow at Paulo before she disappeared down the corridor to the Ladies' changing room with Shannon. It was a look he knew well, one he had gotten from plenty of women and men alike his entire adult life.

_ Well, if nothing else, it could be something to distract me from Jan, _ he thought ruefully, painfully conscious of Jan walking just slightly ahead of him as they made their way back to their own changing room, careful to keep his eyes averted as they changed back into their own clothes.

"See you tomorrow, then," Jan said when he was dressed, looking back at him from just beside the door, his bag and keys in hand.

Paulo glanced up from where he was fiddling with his trainers, taking far longer than usual to get them tied. "Yeah, tomorrow," he said as nonchalantly as he could.

There was a flash of something in Jan's eyes as he turned away that Paulo couldn't quite identify, but it was gone before he could get a second look, and then so was Jan, without another look back.

Paulo heaved a sigh when the changing room door shut behind him, and dug his phone out of his pocket to let Patricia know that he might be bringing someone home.

He made his way out to the car park slowly, wanting to give Jan plenty of time to leave the grounds. He didn't like avoiding him, and it wasn't exactly a viable long term strategy, but for right now it was necessary.

As he had expected, he found Hannah waiting for him in the parking lot, leaning against her car, her cheeks pink from the crisp fall evening, her blonde hair dancing in the wind where it spilled out from under her knitted bobble hat.

"Hi," she called out when he drew close enough to hear.

"Hi," Paulo returned, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. This was familiar, this was  _ easy, _ compared to the impractical, ill-advised, complicated mess that developing feelings for a teammate was guaranteed to be. He gave her a little half smile, and she returned it with a look that definitely qualified as flirty.

"How's it going?"

"Not bad," he said, leaning ever so slightly into her space. She didn't move away, or act surprised or uncomfortable at all. Instead she leaned in to him too, smiling up at him. Her eyes were sparkling in the last of the daylight, almost as blue as Jan's--

He closed his eyes, a sudden shiver sweeping over him. He couldn't think about that right now, not while he was trying to pick up someone else. He found himself suddenly wishing that it had been the brunette, Shannon, that had given him the eye. She had brown eyes, not blue.

"You sure?" There was a light touch in the middle of his chest, and Paulo opened his eyes to see that she had moved even closer to him, resting one small hand right over his heart. Her head was tipped back to look up at him, putting her in the perfect position for him to kiss.

"Just a long day," he whispered, lowering his head ever so slightly. Not quite close enough to bring their lips together, but close enough to serve as a clear indication of his interest.

"Wanna get out of here, then?" she murmured, rising up on her toes and lifting a hand to trail lightly against his cheek.

"Sure," he answered her, and closed the tiny remaining distance between them, brushing their lips together. It wasn't quite an actual kiss, but the message got across. She pressed herself against him, making a soft noise when she made contact with the aching bulge in his trousers.

"My place, or yours?"

"Well…" Paulo gave her his best smile. "We can go to yours if you want, but… well, I have a girlfriend, and…"

She pulled back from him, eyes wide with sudden alarm. "Look, I'm not that kind of girl--" 

He quickly shook his head. "No, no, you don't understand. We have… open relationship, yes? And… if you want, I'm sure she love to meet you too." He put just enough emphasis on his words to hopefully convey the underlying meaning in them.

Her eyes widened even further, but she moved closer to him again with a soft sigh. "You know, that does rather sound lovely."

He kissed her again, and again, trying and failing to convince himself to stop wishing that she were someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can watch Jan give Paulo the flirtiest look in the entire world, and see Paulo laugh at him and then basically give him heart eyes, [here](https://youtu.be/xECwVER0Ksw). The bit about Paulo not being able to sing because he's shy is partly based on lip reading, because it's very hard to make out, but we love the idea so much that we decided to make it canon even if it's not.


	4. Teammates

The next day dawned cold and pale for Paulo, despite having two beautiful women in his bed. They had fallen asleep in a tangle after exhausting themselves the night before, but in the light of morning, Paulo found himself wishing he had just gone home to Patricia alone.

Patricia awoke almost as soon as he did-- she was an incredibly light sleeper, and it had always been just about impossible for him to slip out of bed without rousing her. She gave him a warm smile, full of understanding, and her lips were soft and warm when he bent to kiss her.

Hannah, on the other hand, remained solidly asleep-- probably not surprising, he reflected, considering their exertions last night. He dimly recalled her telling him that she didn't have to report to training today.

Paulo, on the other hand, still had to turn up at the training centre, exactly as if nothing had happened, and somehow carry on with his usual routine of intense training interspersed with all too brief evenings spent in Patricia's arms.

He groaned as the desire to call in, to skip work just this once, flitted through his mind. He couldn't afford to miss training unless he really had to, though, and he knew it. He had a feeling that Toni likely wouldn't accept "weird feelings about a teammate" as a valid excuse to call out, anyway.

So he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and ducked into the bathroom to brush his teeth and start preparing for his day.

"Hey," Patricia said from the doorway shortly thereafter. "Do you want to talk about it now?" He hadn't told her about Jan yet, not wanting to see her reaction, whatever it might be. He didn't think she would be angry; he was more hoping to avoid seeing sympathy in her eyes, the confirmation of what he was trying to avoid acknowledging to himself.

"Not really," he muttered, not meeting her gaze. He zipped up his wash bag and turned towards the door, wanting to get dressed, but she was still standing there, blocking his way, her face alive with curiosity.

"Baby…"

"It's-- it's nothing," he said weakly, flushing when she raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing," she repeated sceptically. "You almost never bring anyone home from the club. Did something happen at training yesterday?"

"Not really… I just… we shot those promo videos," he mumbled.

Patricia frowned. "Okay, but you're acting like that was a problem. Was there an argument or something?"

"No…" He squirmed on the spot under her scrutiny. "Not an argument."

Her face was puzzled for a moment, her dark eyes studying him carefully. "Then what…?"

He sighed. He couldn't hide things from her. "I got hit with an arrow."

Her other eyebrow shot up to join the first. "Who?" Her voice was gentle.

"Jan," he admitted. He didn't bother adding a surname; she was as familiar with the Spurs roster as he was, given that she had helped him go over it to commit everyone's names and faces to memory when they had first settled in London.

She blinked. "Really? Why him?"

Paulo shrugged helplessly. "I can't explain it. He just… I don't know. There's just something about him." He scrubbed a hand across his face in despair at his inability to describe the way looking at Jan's mischievous grin affected him, the way those blue eyes stirred something inside him that he simply couldn't qualify.

Patricia turned and glanced back in the direction of the sleeping woman in their bed. "So that's why, then?"

Paulo shrugged again, sadly. "I was hoping maybe all I needed was a distraction."

"Did it work?"

"Not really."

Patricia came to him, wound her arms around his waist and hugged him, hard. They both knew only too well the pain of developing inappropriate feelings for someone that wasn't available for one reason or another, and Patricia knew how little there was that she could do to help, apart from providing him with comfort and distraction.

  
  


***

  
  


Training that day was as close to pure hell as Paulo ever wanted to be.

It wasn't anything in particular, really, it was just that Paulo was suddenly far more aware of Jan than before, and that awareness proved to be both distracting and infuriating. He kept catching himself looking for Jan, his eyes straying to wherever Jan was at the most inopportune moments. He had to bite the inside of his cheek fairly hard to keep from reacting when Jan would look at him, and the one time Jan met his eyes and smiled, Paulo actually dropped the ball he had just caught.

Swearing at himself in Spanish, Paulo snatched it back up again and threw it back to Toni a good deal harder than was really necessary.

_ Get a grip, _ he told himself.  _ Just tune him out. _

But it was impossible for Paulo to tune Jan out. Even when he managed to stop constantly watching him, he couldn't stop thinking about him, reliving yesterday's shoots, seeing Jan's impish grin, those blue eyes, the way his auburn beard turned positively fiery under the bright set lighting.

By the time he went inside again, he’d managed to frustrate himself into somewhat of a genuine bad mood. He didn’t appreciate his dick having such a stranglehold on his brain, not when he could most ill-afford the distractions. Here he was, all but brand new at a top club in the Premier League, and he had his eyes firmly fixed upon the number two goalkeeper spot; the current backup keeper, Michel, was in his early thirties already, and while he was a genuinely great guy and was teaching Paulo more and more every day, Paulo wouldn’t even deserve to be here if he wasn’t hungry to kick him down to third string regardless. 

But he couldn’t just  _ do _ that with Jan running circles around his imagination. 

He was determined to keep his eyes focused anywhere at all other than Jan, but they just kept straying back. A glance here as he came through the door to the changing room, talking animatedly with Mousa and Hugo and already halfway through pulling his shirt off; a glance there as he burst out laughing at something Toby said, throwing his head back, his face alight with mischievous glee.

_ How on  _ earth _ did I not notice him sooner? _

“Paulo.”

Paulo jumped. Juan had appeared beside him and his voice was a little impatient, as if it weren’t the first time he’d said Paulo’s name. One more glance across the room revealed that Jan had disappeared toward the showers, so he turned fully to face his young friend, smiling at him. “Hey,” he said, hoping that he sounded casual. 

Juan looked unimpressed - and a little hurt. “Did you hear  _ anything _ I just said?”

A guilty pang hit Paulo’s chest and he dipped his head apologetically. “Sorry, bro. I’ve just been...” He gestured vaguely, not sure what he could possibly say that wouldn’t raise any further questions. “No,” he finally just admitted. 

Juan narrowed his eyes at him in that unnerving way that he had. Paulo always felt like Juan could somehow read his thoughts when those pale blue eyes were peering shrewdly up into his own. 

Whatever he saw in Paulo’s eyes made him give one single perfunctory nod. “You need a distraction,” he said firmly. He pulled Paulo’s wash bag out of his locker himself, handing it to him with an imperiously arched eyebrow. “Shower, change, let’s go.”

Paulo had to laugh at his young friend's unaccustomed imperiousness, but he obeyed readily enough, hurrying through his shower in what felt like record time. Once he was clean and dressed again, Juanito steered him out of the dressing room and they wandered around the training centre aimlessly for a while, talking about nothing at all, really. It did help to clear his head, though, and by the time they were nearing the indoor pitch where all the segments had been filmed yesterday, Paulo was feeling much more like himself again.

As it had yesterday, the indoor pitch was once again playing host to the film crew, evidently still at work shooting the various Christmas promotional videos. He had known that a sizable group of his teammates were involved in today's shoot, but he realised now that he had no idea what they were actually doing. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Want to take a look?" Juan asked, grinning. "We can go stand behind the cameras and watch."

"Sure," Paulo said lightly, and they circled around behind the film crew until they had a view of the set. It was a simple one, a dark backdrop with a chair set up in front of a Christmas tree. The chair was currently occupied by Kieran Trippier, who was answering the questions put to him with his usual wry smile.

They watched for a while, trying not to laugh too loud at the answers their teammates were giving. The questions were silly ones for the most part:  _ who will eat the most at Christmas dinner? Who would you like to get in Secret Santa? Who will wear the worst outfit to Christmas dinner? _ That last ended up setting Paulo and Juan to giggling the most, because the answer was invariably Eric Dier. 

Soon, though, it was Hugo's turn, and he came up with an answer to one of the questions that caught Paulo off guard.

"Who is the best at Christmas karaoke?"

Paulo smiled as he watched the handsome French captain ponder his answer. The others had mostly said that no one could really sing, and if Jan's efforts yesterday were any indication, there was some truth to that.

"I think I will go for… Paulo," Hugo said, lifting his eyes and smiling straight at where Paulo was standing, behind the cameras and to one side.

Juanito grinned and elbowed him, and Paulo felt himself blushing. It was true that he liked to sing, and sometimes did when he was around people he felt comfortable with. At Tottenham, that really only included the goalkeepers and the little group of Spanish-speakers at the club. He wouldn't have given his own name in answer to this particular question, though-- as he had told Shannon yesterday, he was far too shy to attempt karaoke. Just the thought of it made his stomach churn.

"Really?" The staffer who was asking the questions said with a laugh. "Paulo, how about it? Are you a singer?"

"No, no," Paulo answered with a rueful laugh, shaking his head. "No, I cannot sing."

"This is not true," Hugo objected mildly. "You've got a good voice."

Paulo just laughed again, too embarrassed to protest much. He elbowed Juan back, then gave him a playful shove. Juanito enjoyed teasing him far too much in general, he decided, but at least Paulo did tend to win whenever they roughhoused.

A movement on the other side of the set caught his eye for a brief moment, an instant before Juan's elbow connected with his stomach, sending his breath whooshing from his lungs. He hadn't noticed before, but they weren't the only ones standing around and watching the filming. Paulo felt his heart jump into his throat even as he struggled to get his breath back.

Jan was standing on the other side of the set, with Toby next to him. Jan's eyes weren't on Hugo, though. He was staring straight at Paulo instead, looking like he had never seen Paulo before in his life, one eyebrow arched quizzically at him.  _ I thought you said you couldn't sing, _ his eyes seemed to say.

Paulo blushed again and shrugged, dropping his eyes to the floor, but something secret inside him felt quite pleased. He had been thrown by his sudden attraction to Jan, it was true, and he hadn't been prepared to deal with that. But seeing that maybe he was capable of surprising Jan, too, gave him an odd surge of confidence.

Jan was remarkable, no doubt about it, and Paulo knew that it would be a challenge for him to keep his feelings hidden, for however long they were at the same club. But Hugo's unexpected vote for him served as a timely reminder that, after all, he was remarkable too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being hit by "an arrow" is a literal translation of _un flechazo_ , a Spanish term for a crush.
> 
> You can watch the Christmas teammates video with Hugo et al [here](https://youtu.be/9VmfXQezQcg).


End file.
